Famous! Ch.150

Chapter 150: Trending

Ji Chongyang had overcome his crisis smoothly, but his narrow escape felt odd to Wang Ying—according to the initial setup of Reverse City, such a turn of events was clearly unreasonable.

He saw no trace of a hero in Ji Chongyang.

Ji Chongyang and Luo Ying had become friends, and he even wanted to rescue Luo Ying from imprisonment. However, unfortunately, since the character was played by Lu Xu, everyone could guess that Luo Ying was far from an ordinary person.

As the plot unfolded, the audience in the theater gradually realized that all of Ji Chongyang’s so-called “ease,” “coincidences,” and his seemingly perfect disguise were nothing more than the result of someone manipulating events from behind the scenes.

From beginning to end, Ji Chongyang was merely a pawn.

Reverse City had a total runtime of two hours. After the first hour, the curtain over the dark world was finally lifted, and it was only then that Wang Ying realized that while Ji Chongyang appeared to be the film’s protagonist on the surface, the true hidden protagonist was Luo Ying.

The sense of discord he had felt since the release of Reverse City was now explained—Ji Chongyang, at his core, did not belong in the dark world that the film had constructed. Luo Ying, on the other hand, thrived in it; he was a character truly integrated into that world.

Ji Chongyang’s so-called struggles and attempts at salvation were nothing more than a game of amusement for those in power. And when the game became interesting enough, even the higher-ups were willing to personally participate.

No one could save Ji Chongyang, because even his superior had long since become just another piece in the game.

The camera’s focus had gradually shifted to Luo Ying.

As a professional journalist, Wang Ying had seen more than one of Lu Xu’s films. He had analyzed the plot logic of Deception in detail and had been deeply impressed by the characters Lu Xu portrayed.

And in this film, Reverse City—once Lu Xu appeared on screen, Wang Ying found it difficult to look away from him.

For instance, in the scene where Luo Ying effortlessly eliminated a certain faction, one second he was still playing the role of a stubborn young man struggling against his fate, and the next, he had already transformed into the abyss itself, a black hole consuming everything.

There was no overt cruelty, malice, or intimidation in him, yet when the long take settled on him, Luo Ying’s gaze drifting toward the camera sent a chill down Wang Ying’s spine.

At that moment, Luo Ying did not even seem human, yet he could vividly perform the full range of human emotions.

Lu Xu’s portrayal was not that of a conventional villain, yet it was all the more terrifying.

How could one possibly stand against Luo Ying and the group of people he represented?

Wang Ying pondered this question until the credits rolled.

Reverse City did not deliver a happy ending where justice triumphed over evil; rather, it depicted a world where evil, for the sake of its own amusement, nurtured justice.

Ji Chongyang’s fate was anything but good. The “reverse” in Reverse City referred not only to Luo Ying but also to him.

After watching the film once at the premiere, Wang Ying did not rush to write a review. Instead, he searched for nearby theaters and found that another screening was scheduled that evening. After dinner, he wandered over to the cinema and watched Reverse City a second time.

Objectively speaking, Mu Lang’s use of cinematic language in this film was striking—whether in the interplay of light and darkness or in the way long takes captured subtle facial expressions, every shot seemed to carry a profound meaning.

However, Wang Ying did not feel that Mu Lang was being pretentious. Reverse City had successfully constructed a dark world—one where no one could escape.

Although both Deception and Reverse City revolved around the theme of games, Deception emphasized that evil ultimately faced retribution, whereas Reverse City did not.

While writing his review, Mu Lang focused heavily on Lu Xu’s performance.

Watching the film for the second time, Wang Ying felt this even more strongly—throughout the movie, Lu Xu almost completely overshadowed Zhao Yifan. Although Zhao Yifan’s performance was not bad and he was a competent actor, compared to Lu Xu, he only scratched the surface, while Lu Xu delved deep into his role.

[For half the duration of Reverse City, my eyes were drawn to Lu Xu. He did not play a conventional villain—whether you call it terrifying or horrifying, some people are simply born evil, treating crime as a way of life. The character Lu Xu portrayed in Reverse City was undoubtedly one of them.

[A film always needs a villain, and these villains often share many similarities. However, what Lu Xu presented was an entirely different kind of character. To use a trendy term, he was ‘quasi-human.’

[Precisely because this character did not feel human, the moments when he sincerely pretended to be an ordinary person became all the more chilling.]

Wang Ying published a lengthy review in the online column of Film Magazine, analyzing both Reverse City as a movie and Lu Xu’s acting performance within it.

[In recent years, I’ve noticed that productions like to showcase young actors’ acting skills through a particular scene or a few select shots. However, as we all know, with enough patient coaching from a director, even a blank slate can appear skilled. These performances often come from characters with minimal screen time or from carefully curated moments. But in Reverse City, Lu Xu maintained a consistently high-level performance throughout the entire film.

[His acting has already been refined in the television industry—he doesn’t need the director to meticulously guide him frame by frame. Moreover, he possesses an innate talent beyond the reach of most people. Whether in a series or a film, you will never see a moment where his performance collapses.]

As soon as Wang Ying’s review was published, some people immediately accused him of being a Lu Xu fanboy.

But Wang Ying disagreed. While he had praised Lu Xu’s performance, he had also mentioned that he did not have high expectations for Reverse City’s box office performance.

Compared to Mu Lang’s previous films, Reverse City had a stronger artistic atmosphere.

Yet—it was undeniably a good movie.

The characters were vivid, and the film’s dark, sprawling city had a unique charm, reminiscent of Gotham as depicted in Batman, but infused with Mu Lang’s personal touch.

People who liked it would love it. People who disliked it would probably hate it. But Wang Ying liked it.

Mu Lang had woven subtle metaphors and symbolism into Reverse City, details that were easy to miss on the first viewing but became more apparent upon a second watch.

…

After publishing his review, Wang Ying carefully searched for other critiques of Reverse City. As expected, opinions were highly polarized. Some gave it high ratings, while others dismissed it as “a boring fantasy filled with pretentious artistry, neurotic characters, and an unrealistic setting.”

[I would never spend money on a film like this.]

[Why does Lu Xu love playing these contrasting roles? The moment he turned into a villain, I couldn’t help but sigh—it felt like watching Ultraman turn into a minor monster. Can we not be this cliché?]

But the reviews from those who enjoyed it were as passionate and heartfelt as Wang Ying’s own.

The main reason was that movies like Reverse City were exceedingly rare in the domestic market.

Mu Lang’s depiction of the dark world felt like an alternate dimension running parallel to reality—wicked, chaotic, and brimming with countless shadows.

With critics so divided, audiences who had initially considered buying tickets started hesitating.

[Is Reverse City really worth watching?]

[Curious, kinda want to watch, but afraid I’ll waste my money. Still recovering from my Sanzu River trauma.]

To some extent, even though Reverse City had just been released, the film industry’s focus was still on Sanzu River—it had too many flaws, keeping marketing accounts and internet jokesters endlessly entertained as they discovered new things to ridicule every day.

Even though Sanzu River had been pulled from theaters, in terms of buzz, it still overshadowed Reverse City.

Of course, there was never a shortage of brave souls willing to take risks.

Naturally, some audience members rushed to watch Reverse City as soon as it premiered.

[My expectations aren’t high. As long as it’s better than Sanzu River, I’m good.]

And this low-expectation viewer’s verdict after leaving the theater?

[At the very least, you can tell Reverse City actually spent money on production.]

This was clearly a jab at Sanzu River. After all, the main source of Sanzu River’s negative reviews was the fact that—despite its nearly one-billion-yuan budget—no one could tell where the money had actually gone.

Sure, the actors reportedly received “the highest salaries in history,” but could those payouts really have eaten up more than half the film’s budget?

[Reverse City definitely had money put into it. You can’t achieve this level of quality on a low budget.]

[The story was easy to follow. Why are some people calling the plot confusing?]

[All I can say is, from Ji Chongyang’s perspective, this is truly a hopeless story. He thought he had broken free, yet he was still living under control. But unlike Song of Tears, Reverse City’s despair doesn’t feel suffocating—it’s just that evil is too overwhelmingly powerful.]

[As for me, my worldview has officially been hijacked by my senses.]

[I mean… I just keep reminding myself that Reverse City isn’t the real world. Who would dare act like this in reality? Even CEO romance novels wouldn’t go this far.]

[+1, +1. Honestly, by the end of the movie, I just felt creeped out. I’m a Lu Xu fan, but doesn’t anyone else think so? The villain he played was genuinely terrifying—like an anomaly existing within the real world.]

[YES!!!! None of Lu Xu’s previous roles ever gave me this feeling. This character gave me chills—I even started wondering if there’s something hidden behind Lu Xu’s own smile.]

When Lives Beyond Death the Chivalry aired, many fans cried over Nie Yunchang’s death. But after Reverse City hit theaters, the trending topic #Lu Xu Dual Personality# appeared on social media.

One of his long-take shots in the movie left audiences unsettled.

[He’s not even the type to go around killing and shouting threats, but he’s still terrifying!]

[I just realized—Lu Xu has never played a similar character before. Every new project is a fresh breakthrough.]

Compared to film critics, audience opinions on Reverse City were also highly polarized—some loved it, while others weren’t as impressed. But regardless of personal preference, no one considered it a bad movie.

On its opening day, Reverse City grossed 81.99 million yuan—a decent figure but still far from breaking even. Compared to Sanzu River’s opening-day numbers, Reverse City lagged far behind.

Mu Lang and Luo Kun, having weathered many ups and downs in the industry, remained unfazed by this.

Lu Xu, on the other hand, was still hoping for a strong box-office performance. If hitting a big target wasn’t possible, at least breaking even would be good enough.

He actively promoted the film on Weibo and participated in as many offline events as he could.

After several days of continuous promotion, Lu Xu noticed that Zhao Yifan had significantly reduced the frequency of his reposts about Reverse City. On one particular day, Zhao Yifan even skipped an official promotional event entirely, leaving only Mu Lang, Luo Kun, and Lu Xu to attend.

Mu Lang, of course, understood the reason—ever since Reverse City was released, all the discussion revolved around Lu Xu. Zhao Yifan, the supposed protagonist, was barely mentioned.

His screen time was far less than he had expected. In fact, in the final cut of the film, he appeared completely overshadowed by Lu Xu.

Zhao Yifan was convinced that Mu Lang had done it on purpose—deliberately cutting down his scenes and using him as a stepping stone for Lu Xu.

He refused to believe that after filming for more than six months, not a single scene could be edited to show him suppressing Lu Xu’s character.

As for Lu Xu, he had the smug face of someone who had benefited from it all. Zhao Yifan simply didn’t buy that Lu Xu had no clue about Mu Lang’s actions.

They just thought he was easy to push around.

That same day, the hashtag #Zhao Yifan’s Scenes Cut# also climbed to the trending list.

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